Hatred Not Chosen
by Object Of The Twin's Affection
Summary: I don't know... A little thing... From herm, Harry and Petunia Dursley's POV


  
  
This came to me while I was lying in bed. A little strange. It's from Hermione, Harry and Petunia's POVs... It took me a while to think of a title, it may not make sense to you, but it does to me.... Takes place in the summer just after GoF.  
  
Harry dragged his trunk up the stairs, grumbling.  
  
"Can't go to the Weasleys so I'm stuck here all frickin' summer."  
  
Petunia Dursley head the words, but said nothing.  
  
He'd be better off anywhere but here.  
  
But somehow, her nephew looked different. Tired, ragged- not at all how he usually looked after he came back from school. His face was ashen, he walked bent over, like he really didn't care anymore.  
  
She knew he hated it here.  
  
It had taken a long time to admit it to herself, but she hated it here too.  
  
She was about to go up to him, but- what could she say? She was probably at fault for him being miserable.  
  
What would Lily think?  
  
She shrugged the thought off. She did love her sister. She had. And then- she couldn't help but hate her.  
  
She was happy at least, before she died.  
  
"Petunia!"  
  
She sighed.  
  
Vernon was calling.  
  
**************************************************************************************  
  
Harry lay on his bed. The time was passing, crawling so excruciatingly slowly. Each day, hour, minute passed, and he could do nothing, but play the scene over and over in his head.  
  
11:59...  
  
12:00...  
  
12:01.  
  
Harry sighed. July 29th. He was fifteen, and thankful he had actually made to his birthday. He laughed bitterly to himself.  
  
Cedric would never have another birthday.  
  
How come he deserved one?  
  
He stood and went to the window, looking out at the stars. Trying to remember his astronomy lessons, he attempted to identify to the different stars. Sirius... Polaris... Ursa Major... Ursa Minor... Orion's Belt...  
  
"Harry!"  
  
A stern voice from below startled him. He looked down.  
  
"Herm, what are you doing here?"  
  
"Bringing you your birthday present." She threw him a rope. "Help me up."  
  
He helped her up and she climbed in through the window, smiling at him.  
  
"Happy Birthday." She wrapped her arms around him.  
  
Harry closed his eyes, hugging her back.  
  
"You okay?" She asked.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
But his tone wasn't convincing.  
  
Hermione grabbed his hand and pulled him over to the bed. She sat against the headboard, cross-legged, leaning against the headboard. Harry sat in front of her, and she gently massaged his shoulders.  
  
"So what have you done all summer?" She asked.  
  
"Uh... chores. Just sat here. Nothing much."  
  
Hermione frowned. "Too bad you couldn't go to Ron's."  
  
"Yeah, instead I'm stuck here." He said bitterly.  
  
Hermione sighed. She had never heard his voice so bitter, so- defeated. She didn't care whatever protection was here, Dumbledore was wrong. He shouldn't have been left alone here.  
  
Harry lay back and out his head in her lap. She lay there in silence, his usually bright green eyes dull.  
  
"Harry, maybe you can- come to my house or something. I don't know. I- I don't like leaving you here."  
  
He smiled weakly up at her. "Maybe."  
  
They sat in silence for the longest time. Hermione watched in agony as a single tear slid down his cheek.  
  
"I hate it here... I- and it just keeps playing over and over in my head..."  
  
Hermione wiped the tear from his face. He still blamed himself for everything. She knew it, but no matter what she said-.  
  
"Can I tell you?" He asked.  
  
Hermione looked down at him.  
  
"Herm, I need- no one else really knows, except Sirius and Dumbledore... I need to tell you. I want you to know..."  
  
She nodded. "Tell me."  
  
He started in a whisper. "I walked into the maze..."  
  
Hermione listened silently as he told the story, every step, everything he saw. She sat unmoving through the tale, until he got to the part where Wormtail got his blood using the dagger. She slipped her hand under his t-shirt and ran her fingers over the mound of scar tissue there, stroking his hair.  
  
"Shh, Harry..." She pulled her hand out from his shirt and gently wiped tears from his cheeks.  
  
But she didn't know what to say.  
  
"It's not your fault..." She finally whispered, trying to keep the shaking from her voice. She could barely stand seeing him like this. His shoulders shook with his sobs, and she could do nothing but hold his hand.  
  
She kissed his forehead, gripping his hand.  
  
"Shh..."  
  
The tears still ran, and he lay crying in her arms, and she sat, barely holding her own tears at bay, when a strange feeling came over her.  
  
She snapped her head up, her eyes going to the door, when she realized she was being watched. Her eyes settled immediately on the door, which was a jar.  
  
Someone was standing there.  
  
Hermione stated right back into their eyes.  
  
And then she realized who it was.  
  
Petunia Dursley.  
  
But- the expression on her face- she looked-  
  
Ashamed.  
  
Suddenly, Petunia was gone, leaving the door open.  
  
Hermione looked down at Harry. His sobs had relented to quiet tears, and he soon fell asleep, his head still resting in her lap.  
  
She carefully slipped off the bed and, making sure she hadn't woken him up, she slipped through the door, silently padding down the stairs. She entered the kitchen, knowing whom she would find.  
  
"Come to tell me what you think of me? That I'm horrible, that I'm-"  
  
Hermione shook her head. "No- I- I'm Hermione. I just thought- you'd- well, you probably don't like a stranger sneaking around your house-"  
  
"I know who you are. Harry has pictures of you, all over his room."  
  
Hermione nodded, looking at the woman before her.  
  
"I loved my sister, I really did... And James- he was wonderful. I never really had anything against them- except they got to live in this wonderful world with magic and- I- I wasn't good enough. And then I met Vernon." She smiled bitterly. "I was good enough for him... But everyone, my family, friends, said I was too good. But I married him just the same." She looked up at Hermione, tears glistening. "I did love him- before. I just- I'm so sick of everything." Tears slid silently down her cheeks. "When Lily died, I never- I never even got to cry. Vernon had me up in this big whirlwind of how they were horrible people, just dumping their child on us, and going off and getting themselves killed- And I believed him. For some reason- I- I let him decide for me. He hates Harry- I did too, because he did, he made me believe... But I look at Harry now... He looks so much like James did... And every time I look at him, I see my sister, and how happy she was, even though she died, and- I can't help being jealous, that I never really had that. And then I think of what she would think, how I've treated her son, which she died to protect..." She looked up at Hermione once more, a questioning look on her feet. "Harry- at that school of yours- he has friends? Is he a good student... Is he happy?"  
  
"Yeah, he has lots of friends. He works hard- I guess he's happy."  
  
Hermione felt Petunia's gaze upon her once more.  
  
"Do you love him?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"My nephew. Do you love him?"  
  
Hermione looked back at her.  
  
"I don't- well, no, he's my frie-"  
  
"I've seen the way you look at him."  
  
Hermione stared at her. How could this, this woman- assume things like- She felt a little anger towards her. She had sat back and watched Harry suffer, and now, she- she-  
  
But what if she was right?  
  
Hermione shook the thought off.  
  
Petunia couldn't know anything. Harry was just her friend. Right?  
  
"No, you're wrong. Harry and Ron are my best friends."  
  
Petunia nodded.  
  
"Well, just- take care of him."  
  
She stood, walking out of the kitchen.  
  
"It's his birthday today, you know." Hermione blurted, stopping the woman in her tracks. "Did you even know that? Did you even try to make it up to him? All of it?"  
  
Petunia just walked away, silent tears running down her face.  
  
Hermione slipped back into Harry's room and, closing the door behind her, she climbed back on the bed, slipping her arms around Harry's waist.  
  
"Where'd you go?" Harry's voice startled her.  
  
"Nowhere. Just, looking around."  
  
"Mm."  
  
A faint smile graced his lips.  
  
"What?" She asked.  
  
"Nothing... I was just thinking it's kind of funny... that I'm even here... To see my birthday."  
  
"That's not funny."  
  
"They do call me the boy who lived..."  
  
She smiled at him.  
  
"Happy Birthday, Harry."  
  
She pressed her lips quickly against his in a quick kiss, and was surprised when he returned the kiss. She shifted, turning towards him, her hand around his neck, her lips still on his.  
  
"Herm..." He pulled away for a moment, but Hermione silenced him by pressing her lips once more against his.  
  
And outside the door, a rare smile graced the lips of Petunia Dursley.  
  
Aww.... Wasn't that cute? Kind of a quick thing, a break from all my other stories. I hope u liked.  
  
~Danie   
  



End file.
